Journal: That one shot.

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Written by
3 years ago

I don't know how to put this across but

I shall give it a shot. We all are good at giving

a shot to something that we feel that we

might or might not be able to accomplish.

That's how challenging writing is to me,

that's how challenging almost everything is

to me. So I give a shot to almost everything

and strangely I end up doing well. Maybe,

everything is all about giving that one shot.

There is no glory in the finish. Because

nothing ever gets finished. The moment it

feels that it's about to get finished, it

transmutes itself into something else. And

we keep going on and on. We too become

someone else. We are constantly becoming

someone else. Nobody can point that out.

Somebody will have to be something that's

more than a change to figure that out. And

even if someone does that? You can't do

anything about it, except sitting and

watching. That's the meaning of living!

guess. We all want to say so much, do so

much, that's why it's so hard for us to let

something unfold right in front of us, right

within us. I sit here, in my misery knowing

the fact that this too will pass. But I have

learned a great deal by not wishing anything from anything that rises or passes

by. There's glory in the rise and the fall of

things. How many of us are willing to see

that. How many of us are daring to

experience that. I guess none! But it's ok.

Sometimes something makes us feel so

beautiful that we forget everything.

Everything feels tasteless and bland in front

of that one thing. We keep chasing it. We

keep recalling that feeling. We get angry

when we don't get it any longer. We get so

upset that we stop listening. We stop talking

to ourselves. We lock ourselves in a dark

room. Because we are upset. We are upset

for the fact that something or someone

made us feel so beautiful, that we can't

figure out the whereabouts of that beauty.

That beauty isn't found if we meet that

person again or if we find that "something!"

again. We look for it everywhere. Thinking of

it makes me tired. That's how stubborn we

are. It's a funny game. It's like someone

made you do something and now you are

angry because you can't do that on your

own. I guess, the purpose of that brief

visitation of that beauty is for us to figure

out where it truly lies. It's so close that it's almost invisible. We can't see our eyes

lashes, yet they are the closest to our eyes.

That's how close we are to almost

everything. But because we can't see it, we

can't find it, we need people, instances,

things and places to remind us, to pin point

at us, reminding us that look it's right there.

With you. Nobody can take it away from

you. You always had it. It's ok if we don't

remember, it's ok if we couldn't follow their

pointing fingers. It's ok if we couldn't

understand our way back to ourselves.

Everything is meaningless if we don't find

the eyes that add meaning to everything.

We must find those eyes. Otherwise we will

get lost in an ocean of blindness. We must

open those eyes. Not only for us but for the

entire ocean. The ocean awaits the opening

of our eyes.

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